


Love Me Dead

by loki_dokey



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Gunshot Wounds, Jealous!Jack, M/M, Smut, Stripper!Rhys, equal!rhys, hyperion husbands, painter!Jack, secretsinger!rhys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_dokey/pseuds/loki_dokey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A variety of Rhack drabbles from prompts or from the depths of hell which lurk within my own mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You've Never Shot a Gun Before?

**Prompt from Anonymous on Tumblr:** _“That was your first kill, you should feel proud. Hey… you don’t look so good…”_

I kind of ran with the idea and changed it, but I hope you enjoy! :)

 

* * *

 

 

“Rhys, would you _fucking shoot something_ instead of just crouching there like some useless, idiotic _baboon?!”_

The man in question was squatting behind a wall of barrels, sheet white and trembling furiously. Jack crouched down beside him with wide eyes, whacked him on the arm and then gestured wildly.

“Oh my god! Get the hell up! Now!”

Rhys stared at the ground, unable to focus on Jack’s yelling. Instead, he was far more concerned about the bullets flying above his head and the sound of a Bruiser getting ever closer. It was supposed to have been an orderly meeting down on Pandora; their annual conference with Torgue. Instead, they’d been ambushed by a local warlord who had beef with Jack (who _didn’t_ have beef with Jack) and the whole thing had taken a... showdown sort of turn.

Now, Rhys was _not_ accustomed to firefights. He had only been Jack’s PA for six months and Jack had always handled himself when push came to shove. But in their current situation, Jack was out of his depth. The warlord who had stormed the Torgue offices was one of the most notorious on Pandora. So it was just Rhys’ luck when Jack had shoved a pistol into Rhys’ hands and told him to shoot anything that moved. Said gun shaking violently in his grip, Rhys’ mind raced. He was meant to shoot this thing? Kill a _person_? Kill them? Kill them _dead_?! Rhys barely had the guts to kill spiders, let alone people. His stomach turned at the passing thought of guts and blood. 

Jack shot at something over the wall.

“SON OF A _TAINT!_ WHAT GOOD OF A PERSONAL ASSISTANT ARE YOU IF YOU DON’T PERSONALLY ASSIST ME IN EVERY SITUATION?!”

“I’m sorry!” Rhys managed, clutching his stomach and trying very hard not to throw up. “I’m _sorry_!” This was _so_ above his paygrade. “I...I...Oh my god, you want me to-”

A bullet zipped past Jack’s ear. The older man lost his shit.

“FUCKING – YOU FUCKING _DUMBASS_ GET THE _FUCK_ UP HERE BEFORE I SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE _MYSELF_.”

Rhys climbed shakily to his feet. He peered over the wall that they were using as cover and almost got his head blown off by a passing shotgun shell.

“I did not sign up for this,” he whimpered, ducking back behind the wall. “I did _not_ sign up for this.”

“Babe, you work alongside Handsome Jack. Of course you signed up for this.” Jack was now crouching beside him, reloading his SMG. “Look, there’s only a few left because yours truly is an amazing, incredible shot. Those Torgue piss babies barely scratched the assholes. Just stand up, point and shoot. Please, kitten.” Rhys bit his lip.

Without actually waiting for Rhys to agree, Jack grabbed him under the armpit and hoisted him to his feet. Rhys screamed bloody murder and fired in every direction. His eyes were squeezed shut and his aim was non-existent. In the back of his mind, he was questioning how he wasn’t dead yet. It was only when he felt two familiar hands on his shoulders that he took his finger off of the trigger and cracked an eye open. There were no bandits left standing; just pools of blood and a couple dozen bodies.

“Holy shit, pumpkin,” Jack breathed from behind him. “You are one _lucky_ son of a bitch.”

Rhys did not reply. Instead, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted, right into the arms of Handsome Jack.

*

When Rhys came around, Jack was pacing beside him. Through bleary eyes, Rhys took in the metal walls of the spaceship they’d travelled to Pandora in. Outside of the windows, space flashed past.

“No, we won’t be reconvening until you get your goddamn _shit_ in order, Torgue,” Jack was snapping into his ECHO, anger bubbling over in his tone. “Well _excuse me_ for not expecting to have someone shoot at me this morning. You should have better security, you good for nothing pricks. Sort it out before I have to drag my ass down to see you again. No! It’s not my fault you haven’t got an awesome space station like me. So long, suckers.”

Rhys groaned.

“Oh, hello sunshine!” Jack rounded down upon him, gripping the edge of the bed and grinning something wicked.  There were fresh wounds on his arms, still seeping ruby-red blood through the stitches. “Nice to see your pretty little eyes again. They’re less um,” Jack clicked his fingers together, seemingly grasping for a word, “fearful, now. Less like you’re the _biggest_ pussy in the _entire freaking galaxy._ ”

Rhys groaned again, this time attempting to sit up. “Hey. That’s not fair.”

Jack’s grin suddenly turned into a scowl. He gripped at Rhys’ shirt and yanked him up to his eye level. They simply glared at one another until Rhys swallowed loudly.

“You ridiculous _moron_!” Jack let go. Rhys slumped back onto the bed and the CEO turned away. “I mean, how can you not know how to shoot a gun? You’re my PA! Did you not have to sit a test or something?”

At this, Rhys glowered. “No, Jack. I didn’t.” The named spun around, folding his arms across his chest and frowning. “You hired me on the spot for telling you about someone planning to kill you from my level. You liked my intuition. My _perception._ There was something about me having a cute ass as well. But that’s here nor there. There was nothing in my hiring that had anything to do with firing a gun.”

Jack smirked, unfolding his arms and leaning over Rhys, mouth only centimetres away from his own. “You _do_ have a cute ass,” he said with a smile, tapping Rhys lightly on the nose. Rhys rolled his eyes, but could not deny the sensation that the moment sent to his crotch. Annoyance spread throughout him. Jack knew he had _some_ kind of effect on him, he always had. He had always flirted, always been too close than necessary. But that was just Jack. Jack never mean what he said. He never made _that_ step.

Not that Rhys wanted him to.

Of course.

Because that would be unprofessional.

Inappropriate.

And why would Jack even _like_ Rhys. He was Handsome Jack, for crying out loud. And Rhys was only Rhys.

Nothing special.

Jack stepped back, a strange look on his face that Rhys couldn’t quite understand. He coughed, turning around and crossing his hands behind his back.

“Looks like we’ll have to train you up, Rhysie. We’ll make a real killer out of you. Ohhhh yes.” Jack glanced behind him and beamed when he met Rhys’ gaze. “I’ll make sure of that.”

*

It was a week before Jack kept his promise of teaching Rhys how to shoot a gun.  When the day apparently arrived, the CEO stood suddenly from his seat in his office, fingertips pressing down on the hard wood of his desk.

“It’s time for your lesson, kitten,” he purred, smiling. “Are you ready?”

Rhys glanced up from his computer, a look of confusion spread across his features. “Sorry?”

Jack clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “Your gun training, baby! What, did you think I’d forget?” He touched his heart and gasped.

Still muddled, Rhys opened Jack’s schedule and stalked over to the older man, gesturing at the screen glowing up from his palm. “What are you talking about? You have a meeting with R&D in five minutes.”

Jack laid a hand on Rhys’ shoulder. Rhys couldn’t help but shudder. “Babe, I can do what I like. If I want to scrap a meeting with R&D and teach my PA how to wield a weapon, I can.”

“Jack, you’ve been putting this meeting off for months. I really think that you should take the time to see them.”

Rather than agree like Rhys knew he should, Jack frowned and shrugged. “When they can come to me with something good, I’ll give them the time of day. As for now, though, they can wait. And if I’m not mistaken, _princess,_ ” Jack hissed the word sweetly, stepping closer, “I’d say you were nervous.”

Rhys sniffed. “I am not _nervous_. I just know that there are better things to do with your time than to train me.”

Jack chuckled and pulled him profusely, unnecessarily close. “Who says I don’t want to spend quality time with my PA? Up close and... _personal.”_ At the last few words, Jack leant in, lips almost _almost_ brushing Rhys’ ear.

What was he playing at?

He almost sounded like he was speaking the truth.

But of course, that was impossible.

Stupid, teasing, annoying, _perfect_ Jack.

*

“So this is called a gun range,” Jack drawled, grabbing Rhys’ hand and pointing around them. “It’s a place where _people_ shoot _guns_.”

Rhys dared to smack him on the arm. Jack merely chortled and tugged Rhys along. Rhys would _not_ allow himself to focus on how his hand was still tight in Jack’s.

“Oh Rhysie, I’ve got such a fun day planned for us. We’ve got a multitude of these bad boys to use. I’ll show you their insides, teach you how to aim - you’ll finally learn how a kickback feels...”” Jack rolled his lip under his teeth and literally moaned. “Oh god, yeah. It’s gonna be sweet, sweet shit, babe.”

“So...this’ll be pretty extensive, huh? Don’t you have better things to do?”

Jack stopped short, causing Rhys to almost fall over his feet. He turned, inches away from Rhys’ face. “Sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “I have nothing better to do than...” He looked Rhys up and down. “... _This.”_

Rhys tried to function. Tried to take on board just how close Jack was. That look deep in his eyes. Jack was on a mission. He _wanted_ something. Rhys had seen that look oh so many times. Usually he knew what Jack wanted. But now? He didn’t have a clue.

Unless...

No.

Stupid.

What a stupid idea.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, pulling the stunned-to-silence Rhys into an empty range. All manners of guns lay upon a huge steel table; it was a gun lover’s dream, Rhys was sure. They was an array of colour, size and destruction, each offering a unique way for someone to perish. Thinking of it more poetically, Rhys almost began to see the allure. He walked over to the table and ran a finger along the barrel of a purple and gold pistol, _Hyperion_ emblazoned on the grip. He picked it up. It was a truly beautiful piece of weaponry.

“Thought you’d like that one.” Jack picked up the sniper, gazing down the sight. “It suits you. All pretty and what not.”

At this, Rhys slammed the gun back on the table. Anger erupted from his chest as he turned on Jack, who had lowered the sniper in shock.

“Will you _stop_?” Rhys growled, snatching the sniper away and almost grabbing Jack’s collar but restraining himself. “Stop _flirting_ with me! You don’t get to mess with me that way. All you do _all_ the time is flirt, flirt, flirt. You don’t understand personal space. You don’t understand how close you get and what it _does_ to a person. What it...Do you understand? I don’t care who you are. I don’t care that you’re Handsome goddamned Jack. Fire me, whatever. I don’t _care._ Stop treating me like a toy. It’s not fair to me when I...when...”

Rather than destroy him like Rhys suddenly realised he might, Jack snarled under his breath and picked up the pistol, pressing it hard into Rhys’ palm.

“Aim the damned gun _,_ ” he snapped, seizing the man’s shoulders and spinning him to face the target. “Lift your arms like this.” He raised Rhys’ arms as he wrapped himself around him from behind, ignoring what Rhys had said before. “You’re no _toy_ , Rhysie,” he muttered, positioning Rhys correctly by moving his legs with his hands. They travelled up a little higher than necessary. “You think I flirt with everyone?”

Rhys snorted. Jack sighed.

“Okay. Scratch that. Do you think I devote my time to just _anyone?”_ He brought Rhys’ arms into the right posture. Rhys gulped, unsure of where this was going and when it was precisely that Jack would kill him. “Do you think that I cancel an entire _days’_ worth of plans for just _anyone?_ ”

“...No?”

“No.” Jack huffed, wrapping himself around Rhys and placing his finger over Rhys’ own; the one that was poised over the trigger. “No, sweetheart. I dedicate my time to things that I want. Things that I _need_. Power, money, investments... _long-legged personal assistants.”_

Jack and Rhys pulled the trigger. The shot went completely off course but neither of them noticed. Rhys spun around in Jack’s hold and wrapped his one free hand around Jack’s neck to kiss him hard.

“You _asshole,_ ” he breathed, feeling Jack’s lips curl into a grin. “You could have made a move any time. Why did you have to wait for me to freaking snap?”

Jack moved his mouth to Rhys’ neck. “Because, kitten, it’s way more fun to watch you squirm.”

Rhys grabbed a handful of Jack’s hair and yanked it back, forcing the CEO to glare up at him.

“Oh well, that not something I’m thankful for, Jack,” he purred, loving the way Jack’s eyelids fluttered. “But tell you what I would be thankful for...” Rhys leant over and brushed his lips across Jack’s cheek and up to his ear. “A soft bed and a severe lack of clothes.”

This time, it was Jack’s turn to squirm.

*

They couldn’t keep their hands off of one another as the elevator brought them to Jack’s penthouse. Rhys was entirely dishevelled by the time the doors pinged open, having had Jack’s hands down his pants, up his shirt and carded through his hair. Jack’s usually preened hair was a mess, which Rhys adored, but Jack didn’t seem to care. The main prerogative was finding a bed and making use of it.

“Wow, nice place,” Rhys commented, gazing around dozily at the elegant decor before being dragged into a hallway.

“No time for the guided tour just yet, babe. Let me fuck you first.” Jack picked Rhys up around the waist and shoved him up against the wall. He ran his tongue down the younger man’s neck as Rhys tightened his legs around his back. Jack’s ministrations were pulling out shudders and moans and grabbing hands.

“Jack, god, just...just get us to the bed.”

Jack chuckled against his skin. “Easy, tiger.” He leisurely rolled his tongue up and into Rhys’ mouth and Rhys melted into a puddle at the sudden slowness of it all. Large hands clenched at his hip bones, large hands he’d only dreamed of until now. The experience was all-consuming. _Jack_ wanted _him._

“Listen, kiddo.” Jack pulled away to meet his gaze. “I can get who I want whenever I want. I fuck and I ditch. I fuck, I ditch. But _you.”_ Jack hummed lightly, licking his lips and giving Rhys the once over. “You...I wanna keep you, kitten. Wanna keep you under my desk. On my bed. In my shower. Over my _lap_.” He growled the word, causing Rhys to whine and shift his position. Jack visibly noted the reaction. “Baby, I wanna keep you wanting more.”

“What’s so special about, _god_ , me?” Rhys mumbled, pressing kisses along Jack’s cheek as Jack dug his fingers hard into Rhys’ back.

Jack didn’t reply. He pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and laid Rhys down on an enormous bed. It was as soft as silk and Rhys was so drunk on Jack’s affection that he stretched out and closed his eyes, wondering if this was all a dream. Jack ran his hands down Rhys’ sides, taking his time to thumb every bump of his ribcage and every hollow of his abdomen. When Jack reached his hips, he dug in his nails, drawing out a long moan from Rhys. 

“ _Jaaaaack,_ ” he whimpered, holding the older man’s face in his hands. Jack only smirked and hoisted up Rhys’ shirt, replacing his nails with teeth. Rhys’ eyes blew wide and he propped himself up, staring down at Jack in shock at what the sudden hip biting could possibly mean for him. “Jack?”

Jack came back up to his mouth, Rhys whining in protest. He ignored him and began to unbutton Rhys’ shirt. He threw it somewhere (Rhys didn’t care where) once he was done. Now, Rhys wasn’t the most toned guy, but when Jack just sat there straddling him and gazing down at him, he couldn’t help but blush deeply.

“God, you’re even prettier than I ever imagined, kitten,” Jack said quietly, running his fingers over the abundance of tattoos that graced Rhys’ chest. _Jack had imagined Rhys._ The thought flooded Rhys’ brain and his cock twitched enthusiastically. It was then that Jack snapped back to his usual self; quiet Jack never could last long out in the open. “Now let’s see if that cock’s just as pretty.” He winked, dragging Rhys pants and underwear down so that his shamefully hard cock sprung out, Jack gaping at it as it bounced off of his stomach. “Holy shit. You uh...you’re packing quite something, aren’t you, kiddo?”

Rhys had always known he was... _bigger_ than average. But with Jack staring at him with wide eyes, it was his turn to smirk. He took his dick in his organic hand and began to stroke, keeping eye contact.

“Like what you see, Jack?”

Jack licked his lips. “Ohhhh, Rhsyie. Rhsyie, Rhysie, Rhysie. I _love_ it.”

He kissed down Rhys’ body, trailing his tongue over the tattoos. He particularly focused on the dark blue one that twisted its way across his stomach. Rhys, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his luck. After _years_ of daydreaming about sex with Jack, it was finally happening. He’d always assumed that Jack would be selfish, judging by his personality and character in and around the office. Yet here he was, moving closer and closer to Rhys’ cock, mouth swirling across his lower abdomen. He had a wicked glint in his eye, because he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to him. Rhys buried one hand in Jack’s hair and one hand in his own, wanting so desperately to grab at himself because Jack was going so _slow,_ but he couldn’t complain.

No, he certainly couldn’t complain.

When Jack finally licked up his length with the flat of his tongue, he moaned so pornographically that a deep red dappled across his cheeks and chest. Despite the embarrassment Rhys felt, the moan obviously spurred Jack on because all of a sudden Jack didn’t want to go slow. He hollowed his cheeks and took Rhys in entirely – well, as best he could – and had Rhys screaming his name and coming down his throat within minutes.

“Fuck!” Rhys cried out, slamming his fists down either side of him. He trembled and breathed heavily, the orgasm wrecking his body. Jack slid up, nipping at his ear and neck.

“I’m the best, huh?” he whispered, smug as anything. Rhys could only nod, ignoring Jack’s self-assuredness which he’d usually whack him for. In that moment, Rhys was conclusively, irrevocably glad he’d never learnt how to shoot a gun.


	2. Muse

**Prompt:** _Rhack prompt: Jack's hobbies and Rhys' hobbies. (Anonymous)_

 

* * *

 

 

Rhys' hobbies:

  * Watching movies
  * Reading books
  * Playing piano



Jack’s hobbies:

  * Painting
  * Drinking
  * Sex
  * Playing board games



 

Rhys always loved to watch Jack paint. He would tell Jack that he simply wanted company and would bring a book into the studio to “read” but secretly...secretly he would peer over the book and watch the cautious strokes and movements of Jack’s paintbrush. Jack wasn’t a professional painter; he didn’t sell his art for money. He didn’t need to anyway, being the CEO of Hyperion. Yet every brush stroke was driven by imagination and careful thought. It drove Rhys crazy. So when Jack asked Rhys to pose for him for a painting, Rhys fumbled over his words and gushed and of course said “ _Yes.”._

*

Rhys stood stark naked, with his butt and face turned towards Jack. The older man had dropped his sarcastic and smug persona and had instead switched to his “serious artist” mode. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and he poked his tongue out as he painted Rhys, dabbing amongst the blues and the peaches on his palette.

“Do I look hot?” Rhys pouted, throwing his gaze to the ceiling. Jack lowered his eyebrows and removed his tongue from where it was stuck between his teeth in concentration.

“Babe, don’t be so stupid.” He added another stroke to the canvas. “You’re always hot.”

Rhys beamed and felt warmth spread across his cheeks. The facial kind, of course.  He pursed his lips in an attempt to send a kiss to Jack, who smirked and turned back to his painting.

*

Two hours passed and the fun of the situation had certainly worn off. Rhys was ultimately bored, wanting nothing more than to relax and make out with his boyfriend or something. Something different than being frozen in an uncomfortable position.

“There,” Jack announced finally, touching his brush to the canvas for the last time. “Finished.”

Rhys dropped his arms and spun around. “Shit. Really?”

“Yeah, pumpkin. Come see.”

Rhys forced his legs to work, crossing the room and walking into Jack’s open arms. When his eyes fell upon the canvas, he gasped.

It was gorgeous. _He_ was gorgeous?! Jack had drenched him in warmth and light, carefully detailing his muscles and curves. His eyes were stunning and filled with something... _something._ It was laced with love and care. Rhys bit his trembling lip.

“Jack...it’s...wow. It’s incredible.”

Jack breathed in deeply. “Only because my muse is.” He placed a kiss on Rhys’ temple.

Rhys spun and kissed the breath from Jack’s lungs. He loved his stupid boyfriend. Oh, how he loved him.


	3. Sing

**Prompt from my own sinning brain:** _In which Rhys sings at a level like this:_[WATCH THIS VIDEO YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT IT IS ONLY A MINUTE LONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj4DPXECJsw)  _and Jack stumbles across him singing. Cue embarrassed Rhys._

 

* * *

 

 

 

The new PA was surprisingly competent. Jack was glad he hired him after spotting his fine ass in the Hall of Heroism, bending over to get something from a satchel.

He wasn’t an annoyance like other PAs he’d had. He got on with his work and didn’t question anything.

He was also like, super pretty. Which was also a huge plus.

“Hey,” Jack said, clicking his fingers in search of their name. “Hey, you. Kiddo. I’ve totally forgotten your name.”

“Rhys, sir.” Rhys stepped up to the desk platform and placed a freshly printed report into his hands as he spoke. Jack glanced down at it and back up into the brown and blue eyes of his PA. He’d only asked for it fifteen minutes prior. “My name is Rhys.”

Boy, this kid was good.

And yeah.

Pretty.

*

Rhys looked over the files with disdain.

“Well, you fucked up. That much is apparent.”

Jack was on the other side of the room, arms folded and staring out of the window.

“Yup.”

“I mean, you really didn’t think this through.”

“...”

“It’s actually the worst fuck up I’ve ever witnessed you do.”

Only Jack’s head turned towards Rhys, eyes narrowed.

“Okay, bigshot, I think I get the picture.”

Rhys’ frown suddenly grew into a beaming grin.

“This is hilarious.”

With that, Jack stomped across the room and backed Rhys up against the desk, arms caging him in.

“Keep the sass to a minimum, Rhysie,” he snarled. “Just because you’ve survived this long as my PA doesn’t mean you get to be a little shit.”

Rhys didn’t drop the smirk. He _knew_ Jack so well. He knew one hundred percent that Jack could never, ever do _anything_ to hurt him because he saw the way Jack glanced at him on occasion. Well, on more than just “occasion.” Every freaking second of the day. Oh, he could play Jack like a _harp._ Rhys licked his lips and leant close to Jack’s seething face.

“Oh, Jack. It really does.”

 

*

It had only been four months, but when Jack slid onto the bar stool and watched Rhys prepare pancakes for breakfast for probably the third time that week...that was when it hit him. The lanky brunet was too perfect in his completely imperfect way. He was clumsy and sometimes dim and sometimes too _needy_ but he was perfect to Jack. But Jack didn’t need distractions like Rhys. He was a busy CEO who didn’t have time for...whatever this was. He couldn’t commit to this. Rhys was just some fling, it would end soon enough like they always did, wouldn’t it? That had been at the forefront of Jack’s mind for the entire four months. He wasn’t the kind of guy who did “relationships”.

So when the realisation hit Jack, he was completely unprepared. He actually choked on the apple he had picked up from the fruit bowl. Rhys spun around, eyes wide. He then narrowed them.

“If you’re gonna die, die quietly. Thank you.” With that, he turned back to the frying pan.

Jack spluttered and grimaced, unsure of what to do with that and with the feeling that had overcome him entirely.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he breathed, swallowing thickly. “Stupid, fucking asshole.”

Perhaps it came out too filled with rage. Perhaps he responded to the joke just a _bit_ too harshly. But he threw the remaining apple down hard on the floor at Rhys’ feet and stormed off into the bedroom.

_What the fuck was happening to him._

*

Jack yawned widely, careful to keep quiet so not to wake Rhys who was fast asleep with his head in Jack’s lap. The older man stretched out across the back of the couch, then laid his hand down to run it through Rhys’ hair. He gazed down at him, feeling dumb for allowing himself to get hung up on the lanky guy sprawled out before him. He bit back the smirk that played on his lips as he silently reprimanded himself.

“Hey, Rhysie. It’s time for bed,” Jack announced decidedly, around twenty minutes later. When Rhys didn’t stir, Jack nudged his knee up slightly. “Pssst. Kiddo. Bed time.”

Rhys grunted softly. “Nooo.” He snuggled down deeper and tugged the blanket further under his chin. “T’comfy.”

At this, Jack sighed and stuck his finger in his mouth, wetting it loudly. Rhys was up like a shot, clapping his hands over both of his ears.

“Don’t you _dare,_ you sonofabitch. I won’t have you do that to me again.”

Throwing his head back, the CEO cackled enthusiastically before climbing to his feet and grinning a toothy grin at his angry boyfriend. Rhys was unimpressed.

“Why can’t you just be nice.”

“I am nice.”

Rhys did not reply with words, but his sharp glare said enough. Jack just laughed again and followed the stalking Rhys into the bedroom. The taller tugged off his sweatpants and hauled himself under the sheets, closing his eyes the moment his head hit the pillow. Jack disrobed and slipped in behind him, wrapping his body around Rhys and squeezing him gently.

“...Was the movie any good?” Rhys muttered sleepily, pushing his ass further into Jack’s crotch in order to make the spoon work comfortably. Jack trailed kisses up Rhys’ neck. Oh, he was in _so_ deep.

“Nothing special. Just your average escape-from-prison crap. You didn’t miss anything.”

Rhys didn’t reply for a while. When he did, it was merely some sort of hum of recognition. He was clearly almost asleep.

So when Jack licked his finger and slowly lowered into Rhys’ ear, he completely deserved the punch he received to his arm and the onslaught of verbal abuse that Rhys threw his way.

*

Jack groaned massively, opening the door and throwing his jacket on the hook. He’d left Rhys sprawled naked on the bed only a few hours before, so he prayed that he was still there to help him relieve some of his stress. The idiotic, _moronic_ R &D team had actually thought it appropriate to reuse a gun blueprint that had been discredited years ago only to add a better scope, a prettier finish and they had the indecency...the _guts_ to call it a ‘new model’ in front of Handsome Jack. Jack discarded his bloodied shoes at the door and walked over to the kitchen sink to rinse away the red staining his hands. He sighed. Rhys would be pissy that he’d killed somebody again.

Speaking of Rhys, Jack was concerned that he hadn’t heard the kid chirp a ‘hello’ from at least somewhere in the penthouse. It was his day off, but Rhys wasn’t one to lay in.

“Rhysie?”

No reply.

“Rhys?”

Silence.

A chill spread through Jack’s body.

What if something had happened to Rhys? Something bad? What if he’d been kidnapped or...or worse?

A hand crept to the warmed gun at his side. Jack knew it would still smell vaguely of fresh bullets. But now was no time to semi-orgasm over his weaponry. Gun in hand, he padded down the hallway towards their bedroom. When he heard a noise from inside, both dread and relief washed through him. It could be Rhys. Or it _could_ be an assailant. Jack crouched, peering through the gap in the door. The bedroom itself was empty, but he soon realised that the noise was coming from the bathroom. A step into the bedroom and he heard the shower running and someone humming.

“Goddamit,” Jack muttered, shoving the gun back in his belt. Rhys was showering, and Jack was an idiot. He would have to delete the security footage _just in case_ anyone saw it. Ever. Jack rolled his eyes and went to undo his belt, but that was when Rhys started to sing a familiar song that always played on the radio. Jack chuckled to himself. He’d never heard Rhys sing before. Leaning back against the dresser, folding his arms, he waited for Rhys to attempt the high note. It was then that he realised he should film it. He whipped out his comm and grinned. He was so ready to have something to use against that asshole boyfriend of his. Rhys was singing away, softly and confidently because hey, he thought he was alone, the stupid fucker.

But then he hit the note.

Goddamn, did he _hit. that. note._

Jack felt the air knocked out of his lungs. He dropped the comms, clasping his knees and just _listening._

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, unable to comprehend what was happening.  Rhys’ voice was incredible. Beyond incredible. Something people had to train _years_ to achieve. Goosebumps erupted across Jack’s skin as he slid to the floor, head against a drawer.

Rhys continued singing like an angel descending unto Jack’s very soul. It echoed within him and warmed his bones, igniting a fire within him that he didn’t even know could be lit by song. But Rhys was stunning. Jack wanted to listen to him forever.

Jack wanted to listen to Rhys forever.

Jack wanted...forever.

_Fuck._

The shower water stopped running and Rhys turned back to humming, bringing Jack down from his high gently. Jack was sweating from the realisation that had come to him, wringing his wrists and standing up to begin pacing. He had to pace, it always helped with his nerves. The bathroom door opened as gulped, Rhys standing in the doorway, towel around his waist. He looked gorgeous with dripping hair and water droplets glistening on his body, as per usual, but both men were shocked by one another at exactly the same moment. The colour in Rhys’ face drained away, only to be replaced by a red flush. He almost screamed but choked on it.

“How-how long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” Jack growled, striding over and kissing Rhys breathless. Whipping the towel off, Jack dragged Rhys towards the bed and threw him down, only to continue kissing him furiously. “You never told me you can sing.”

Once again, Rhys blushed deeply. “I’m not that great...” He glanced up at Jack through his lashes.

At this, Jack snarled under his breath and clutched Rhys’ hands above his head with one of his own.

“You’re fucking fantastic, Rhysie. Don’t you dare say you’re not.” Jack gazed down at the man beneath him, drinking in the lazy smile and the pink dappled across his cheeks. Jack’s frown faded, as he lost himself in his thoughts on just how much he cared for Rhys. How he’d felt when he’d realised he wanted him forever.

“You okay?” Rhys asked, brushing his fingertips down the side of Jack’s face.

Jack nodded, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, herolled over, collapsing beside Rhys and staring at the ceiling in panic. He vaguely noticed the hand on his chest as Rhys snuggled against his side, as his mind raced through the ten-month journey their relationship had taken.

“I love you,” he announced suddenly, as though he was comprehending it for the first time. However, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said it. Rhys pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I love you too.”

*

When Rhys brought a microphone to his lips, Jack felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He had _not_ been expecting this. He had not been expecting this at _all._ Nisha gripped his hand tightly, whispering at Jack not to be a big baby and cry. Jack shot her a glare before turning back to face Rhys, who smiled warmly at him from beside the grand piano. He opened his mouth, one of Jack’s favourite songs slipping smoothly from his lips. There was a hushed gasp across the crowd; those who hadn’t been expecting much were turning fully in their seats now. Nisha grabbed Jack’s arm.

“Holy crap, Jack. He’s...he’s _incredible_.”

Jack didn’t reply. He was too lost in Rhys’ voice and the words that were meant only for him. If Jack were a weaker man, he would be a sobbing wreck by now. But no, Jack was not a pansy who cried at love songs. Nope. Not at all. So when a small tear trickled out from his eye, he was shocked at himself and quickly rubbed it away. This was a mistake, clearly, because it simply drew attention to him and Rhys smirked, rolling words off of his tongue and taking a step closer to Jack.

“Aw, you really _are_ a baby,” Nisha teased, prodding him and giggling. On his other side, Vaughn chuckled and nudged Jack with his shoulder.

“Bet you’re totally jealous of how often I heard his voice when we were roommates.”

“Shut up, nerd,” Jack grumbled, folding and unfolding his arms. Rhys laughed the next few words, breaking the flow, yet he quickly found himself as he began the last refrain.

 

When the last few words poured out, Jack stalked across the floor and whisked Rhys up into his arms, kissing him silly.

“I love you so much,” he purred, squeezing gently. Rhys beamed.

“Did you like it? Were you surprised?”

“Yes and yes, baby. I am now a hundred percent sure I did the right thing by marrying you just now.”

In response, Rhys hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek.

“I can’t wait to spend my forever with you, Jack Lawrence.”

“Hey now, let’s not get too mushy.”

Rhys motioned to the watching crowd with a tilt of his head, grinning widely.

“I think it’s already too late for that.”

Jack could only smile. Rhys had him on that one.

 


	4. Bullets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments so far! :) They make my day, genuinely. 
> 
> Please send prompts to loki-dokey.tumblr.com! I will get to them when I can :D x

**Prompt:** **_"Are you willing to take a bullet for me?”_ ** _\- Anon_

 

* * *

 

 

The beginning of the fight was merely a blur in the back of Rhys' mind. It had all happened so quickly, so suddenly, that he hadn't really had a chance to register the onslaught of bullets that rained down from the mountain ridge above. Jack, being the ever-present, ever-focused man that he was, had immediately roared commands to his team, telling Rhys to find cover, yet the unexpected had frozen Rhys in his place. He was dazed, not believing that what was happening could really be happening at all. He was trained for this; he could fire five shots a second and land every single one, but there was something about the situation that caught him off-guard. Perhaps all of the training - all of the aiming and targets and various guns - hadn't prepared him for the reality of an actual, honest firefight. The speed of it all. The carnage. He slowly processed the people that fell around him, clutching gushing wounds and dropping to the dust in agony.

When reality came rushing up to him in an abrupt moment, he stumbled and touched the gun on his thigh, still uselessly encased in its holster.

“Fuck,” he muttered, ducking down behind a metal crate. “Fuck this.” The gun now sat familiarly between his palms, the Hyperion logo glinting as it caught the sunlight. A bullet zipped past the side of the crate, hitting the ground with a _phutt,_ and with a deep breath, Rhys knew that he couldn’t hide from the fight any longer. He had to get at least a shot in before he died or got seriously damaged or something to that effect. He stood, locating the nearest enemy and letting them taste the metal of his bullets when he got a shot right into their cheek. Another pierced their skull and they fell with a scream. Rhys could see Jack about fifty yards ahead of him, crouching and firing around the side of one of the vehicles. Keeping low, the younger of the two made his way through the maze of the campsite and he arrived beside Jack, breathing heavily.

“Well, it’s nice of you to show up,” Jack grumbled, peering over his shoulder at Rhys. “Could have used you about five minutes ago, kiddo. You know, when the Bruiser with the rocket launcher appeared and nearly demolished everything.”

“Um...Sorry?” Rhys knew he was being pathetic. Jack relied on him. He’d trained him personally, ensuring that the training was top quality so that Rhys would be ready for anything. Yet apparently, the training hadn’t been quite enough.

Jack rolled his eyes and motioned towards the bad guys with his head. “Just...do what you can. We can’t lose this research without a friggin’ fight, goddamnit.”

The waver in Jack’s tone was so subtle that only the keenest of ears would have picked up on it. Rhys, of course, being first Jack’s lover and second his PA, had just the kind of ears for it. He was more than aware of how much this research meant to Jack. After losing Angel to the Vault Hunters, he’d spent years hunting for a way to restore her from the scraps of data that had been left after her death. Rhys didn’t have the heart to tell him it would most likely be all for nothing. He also didn’t have the heart because Jack might just rip it out if he did mention anything of the sort.

Focusing on the task at hand, Rhys fired bullets this way and that, landing his shots and almost getting shot himself on multiple occasions. Jack swapped between weapons with finesse and ease. From sniper to pistol to sniper to shotgun; Rhys would have watched him for hours if the seconds weren’t being eaten up by the potential of dying.

“I’m gonna head towards the next truck, see if I can’t snipe some of the bastards off the ridge.” Jack’s voice poured into his ears and he turned to look at the man with the set jaw and lowered eyebrows. The face of the man he was deeply, stupidly in love with. “Follow after me and have my back; get rid of any jerks on the ground.”

A grenade exploded somewhere to their left. Rhys was too lost in Jack’s eyes to pay proper attention to it.

“Sure.”

With that, Jack crouched low and crossed the barren space towards the truck. Rhys followed after, picking off a looming bandit before they could get either himself or Jack. As they approached, Rhys didn’t see the other bandit appear around the back of the vehicle. He didn’t understand why Jack suddenly yelled and grabbed Rhys by the back of the collar, swinging him around behind him and throwing him hard onto the ground. A gunshot. Another gunshot. The bandit’s legs crumpled beneath him and he fell to the ground at the same time as Jack doubled over, landing on his knees. Rhys could only see Jack’s back. Why had he stopped shooting?!

“Jack?” Rhys asked, crawling around to face the man, instinctively catching him as he collapsed towards him. That was when the fear set it. Reality came crashing down around Rhys once again, hitting him hard in the chest and almost winding him as though it were a freight train carrying every feeling of anxiety he’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Jack eyes weren’t focusing and there was blood pumping from a wound hidden beneath his yellow Hyperion sweater.

“Jack!” Rhys cried, cradling the large CEO to his chest. “Jack, shit! What the hell?!” He didn’t know what to do. He ripped the sleeve of his shirt off and pressed it under the sweater and against the wound, not looking at the damage that had been done for fear of passing out. Jack groaned at the pressure, eyelids flickering. Rhys squeezed him tightly, unstoppable tears spilling from his eyes. “Jack, _talk_ to me.” God, Jack couldn’t be dying. He’d...

Had he...

Wait.

Had he put himself...had he thrown Rhys out of the way so that he could take the...?

Rhys relayed what had happened in his head. Jack had grabbed him...he must have seen the bandit coming...he...

Oh god.

Rhys glared down at Jack through tears of anger and misery. “You didn’t have to do that, you _idiot_.”

Jack looked up at him, eyes glassy, grinning as best he could. “Shut the fuck up, kitten.”

Rhys blanched, feeling sick. “... _What_?”

“Of course I had to do that, babe. Couldn’t let my Rhysie die now, could I?” His voice was strained, coming out of him between small gasps and grunts.

“Well, you aren’t going to die in my place, Jack.” Yet it was apparent that that might actually happen. Gun fire was still zipping overhead and Rhys had no idea where a medic could be. Jack’s blood seeped through the sweater more and more, proving that his sleeve was no longer having any kind of beneficial effect.

“Why would you take a bullet for me?” he asked quietly, stroking a hand through Jack’s hair. “Why would you do that?”

Jack coughed, tears pouring down the sides of his face from his watering eyes. “You know why, babe.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Genghis Khan

**Prompt:** _jack getting jealous of some1 hitting on rhys - Anon_

Title of fic taken from Miike Snow's 'Genghis Khan' song which I highly recommend you listen to because it is perfect.

 

* * *

 

 

It took Jack a while to see it. To notice the change in his step, the difference in his breathing. When Jack finally realised that he could tell when Rhys had gotten himself laid, he  _ didn’t _ realise how it would make him feel. How he had to clench the edge of his desk tightly when Rhys sing-songed through the door in the morning, or how something his chest panged strangely when Rhys smiled as he typed up the world’s most boring documents. It wasn’t that Jack didn’t know what it felt like to have Rhys writhing beneath him, but they weren’t…“exclusive”. No, Jack didn’t do exclusive. He’d tried it once, but he’d told himself it would never happen again. 

Yet here Rhys was, strolling in with a stupid grin on his stupid face and a stupid skip in his stupid step. Jack felt sick.

“Good morning!” he chimed, waltzing over to the coffee machine and flicking it on. “Sleep well?”

“No,” Jack replied gruffly, not making eye contact. “I stayed here all night working on the plans for the Opportunity rebuild.”

_ Unlike you, who let someone else touch your pretty little ass. _

Rhys made this idiotic pouty face and poured a fresh cup of coffee, adding six sugars before advancing on Jack. He placed the mug on the desk and splayed his hands out across the surface, leaning forward. 

“You’re going to kill yourself working this hard.”

Jack just shrugged, still keeping his eyes locked on the screen. 

“Wow, okay. Be grumpy, I don’t care. I’ll just go and do my work over there,” he jerked his thumb towards his own desk, “being silent like a  _ good  _ boy.” 

The words rolled off of his tongue with purpose and intent. With the knowledge of what it would do to Jack. The motherfucking asshole. 

“Rhys, can you shut up, I’m trying to work.” He wouldn’t give in that easily. Neither would Rhys, apparently. He slunk around the desk like a venomous snake and wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, pressing kisses down it like the vicious piece of shit that he was. 

“Can you not? I’m too busy for that crap right now.”

Rhys didn’t stop, flicking his tongue around Jack’s ear, driving him crazy inside. This mixed with the building rage; how  _ dare  _ Rhys touch him like this when he’d been with someone else in less than a twelve hour time frame? When Rhys hummed happily, Jack grabbed him by his arms and threw him over his shoulder, causing him to land upside down with a thump on the desk. Rhys was quick to bound to his feet, glaring at Jack, clearly seething. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that for?” 

Jack rose to his feet, folding his arms. “Don’t play coy with me, Rhys.”

Rhys laughed. “Rhys? You’re calling me by my real name now? Where’s all the pet names gone, hmm? Tired of me already?” Jack resisted walking around the desk to throw a punch in his stupid face. “No, come on. What is it? Why are you taking your crappy attitude and sleeplessness out on me?”

Enraged, Jack slammed a fist down on the desk, pens and other stationary scattering onto the floor.

“You think,” he growled, stalking around to square up to his scumbag PA, “that you can just float in here after fucking someone else and act like that with me? That you can look me in the eye after letting someone else,” Jack curled his lip back in disgust, “ _ touch  _ you and then put your hands on me asking for more? Fuck you, Rhys. I was willing to look past your little nighttime antics but honestly? That shit you just pulled? I won’t stand for it.”

Throughout his small speech, Rhys had appeared more and more confused by the whole direction of the conversation. He folded his arms to match Jack’s posture. 

“...Nighttime antics, huh? That’s...that’s what’s got you all riled up?”

“Yes.”

“My many nighttime antics? All those men that I sleep with night after night, slotting them in around the multiple times we fuck a day?” Jack was beginning to feel tendrils of doubt clawing their way inside his brain. Rhys stepped closer. “All those men. Touching me at night. You’re...jealous?”

Jack coughed. “No. I just...you heard what I said before. I was okay with it until-”

“Until what? I walked in in a good mood?”

“...”

“Does me being in a good mood indicate a good, hard night of sex and pleasure from someone else other than you?” Rhys smirked. Jack had never felt small before. No one had  _ ever  _ made him feel small before. 

“Tell me, what proof do you have of these so called “antics”? I’d love to see video evidence of them.”

“Well I-”

“No, scratch that. Any evidence at all would be great. Any evidence that backs up why you  _ threw me across your desk like that _ .” Rhys motioned at the desk and frowned massively. “You are the biggest, dumbest idiot I have ever met.”

“Rhysie, look-”

“ _ Rhysie look _ ” Rhys mocked, prodding Jack hard in the chest. “Back to the nicknames now, are we? You total loser.”

At this, Jack grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. However, he didn’t really know what to say. Rhys... _ hadn’t  _ slept around? He was... _ wrong _ ? He’d...been an  _ idiot _ ? He glared down at Rhys, whose knees had weakened. Jack leant in close, still working out what to say.

“I...am not a loser.”

“Well, you pretty much are,” Rhys managed around the large hand strangling him. He gripped it and chuckled, batting his eyelashes. “Now will you let me go?”

Jack squeezed harder. “So there was no one else?” he said quietly, swallowing hard. Oh god, he was the biggest idiot. Rhys was right. He’d made so many assumptions and now he was just showing how weak he was. How  _ deep  _ Rhys had him. 

Rhys shook his head. “Nope. I’d rather like to breathe now.”

Jack let go and turned, walking away. His hand came to rest on the back of his neck. He could never look Rhys in the eyes again. 

“Look, you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. It’s actually quite...endearing. That you care.” Rhys was silent for a while. “I didn’t know that you cared.”

At this, Jack spun on his heel and stalked back over, inches away from Rhys’ face. 

“I  _ don’t  _ care.”

Rhys smiled. “Do you want to know  _ why  _ I didn’t sleep with anyone else?”

_ “No. _ ”

“Oh but you do, Jack. Don’t you?”

Jack shut him up with a kiss, which very much answered Rhys’ question. 


	6. Everything Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate for money, Rhys finds himself accepting a job at the local strip club: Pandora. He's a natural, apparently. Or so Handsome Jack might say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for @erinchu on Tumblr who put out a plea for a fic of this description. I hope it lives up to expectations! I've also earned the "added bonus points" for including smut ;) 
> 
> ENJOY xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had taken a year and a half for Rhys to fully recover from the accident.  The driver of the other car had come out completely unscathed, but Rhys unfortunately severed his arm at the shoulder so had had to receive an amputation. As luck would have had it, the Hyperion corporation had been issuing free cybernetic limb replacements as prototypes and Rhys had managed to snag one just before they stopped the trials.  

The healing process had been long, and physiotherapy in addition to a brand-new metal arm had been...interesting.  Rhys had had to learn how to manipulate the cybernetics using using thought alone; this had not been easy to achieve. It was only when he had reached the year anniversary of the car crash that he was truly getting to grips with his new attachment.  He had not been able to work during the healing process, getting by on savings, but his stress levels rose each passing day when he opened his banking app of his ECHO to see the number slowly creeping towards zero.

“I have to get a job,” Rhys sighed, breaking an egg into the frying pan. “I’m almost penniless.”

Vaughn hopped up onto the counter and tilted his head thoughtfully. “You know I’ll always have your back if you need it, bro.”

“Bro.” Rhys turned on his heel and pointed the spatula directly between Vaughn’s eyes. “You’ve done enough.”

Laughing, Vaughn grabbed the toast that had popped up from the toaster and took a bite.

“Okay, well, the offer still stands.” The shorter man glanced at his watch. “Ah shit, I’ve got to get going.” He jumped down from the counter and jabbed Rhys in the chest with his finger. “Start.job.hunting.today. Ain’t no time like the present.” Vaughn swallowed the piece of toast he’d been chewing. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

Rhys waved him off before settling against the wall beside the front door. He used his ECHO eye, which had come with the arm, to check his bank balance. Only having forty dollars to his name was not good - not good at all. He needed a job and he needed it _now._

*

Rhys spent the morning typing up a résumé, ensuring he’d correctly worded the reason why he’d had a year and a half off of any kind of work. Once he was happy, he printed off twenty copies and headed out into town.  

It was a gloomy day; the clouds hung low and heavy, dark with the promise of rain.  He’d left his résumé with a few stores, hoping he’d hear back from them soon. Nowhere seemed particularly excited about someone applying for a job.  Apparently everywhere had just the right amount of people it needed.  This job would have to be something that could keep him going whilst he got back into the swing of things. Before the accident, Rhys had been a programmer for Atlas.  His dream was to work as a programmer once again, but Atlas hadn’t treated him well. In a way, he was grateful that the accident had allowed him _not_ to attend his job. Eventually he’d told them he wouldn’t be coming back, which in retrospect didn’t seem like such a good idea. The unsympathetic rain had begun in earnest, and Rhys was out without an umbrella. He ducked into the nearest building, grimacing at the weather outside.

“How can I help you, sugar?”

A voice as sweet as honey drifted into his ears and he span, locking eyes with a strangely beautiful woman with breasts for days.  Rhys couldn’t stop staring at them until she sashayed over, lifting his chin with a long, delicate finger.

“Lookin’ for a dance?”

Rhys shook himself and suddenly became very aware of his surroundings. He was in a goddamn _strip_ club. The last time he’d been in a strip club was for Fiona’s birthday.  She’d wanted to see Athena who was apparently something to behold. It had been true, she’d been incredible. However, this was not exactly where Rhys wanted to be right now.

“Are you loose a screw?” the girl said, raising an eyebrow. “Do I need to call the police?”

“No!” Rhys barked quickly, gathering up his résumés which were slipping from his hands. He took a deep breath. “No. I just came in here to get out of the rain. I hadn’t realised…” he looked around, “....quite where I was going.”

“That’s what they all say,” she laughed, low and sultry. Her gaze travelled down from his face, coming to rest on the papers in his arms. “So it’s _not_ a dance you’re lookin’ for then, sugar. Seems to me like you’re searchin’ for a job.”

Rhys rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m in a pretty crap situation at the moment. I should get back to-”

The woman placed another delicate finger on his lips. She smirked. “We’ve been huntin’ for someone just like you. Tall...pretty. Your legs are killer, hun. Those ugly blue jeans swapped with some black leather shorts...jeez, all the boys would be _gaggin’_ for ya.”

A fierce heat burst across Rhys’s neck and face. “I... _What_?”

The woman held out her hand. “The name’s Moxxi. I run this joint. So whatta ya say, kid? You think you could handle it?”

“But...I don’t...I mean...I couldn’t do this! I’m not-”

Her finger found his lips once again. “You do a good job here? You walk home with two thousand cash in your pocket every night. That’s on top of your pay. But...you can’t do this.” She turned and walked away, her heels clicking on the dark floor. “You’re not...what was it you were going to say?”

A millions thoughts raced through Rhys’s mind. What would Vaughn say about him working at Pandora? What would his next employer thing when they see it written on his résumé? Yet, Rhys was broke. He couldn’t turn down such an opportunity.

“I’m not...sure where I need to sign?” he replied meekly, offering Moxxi a small smile. Her face broke out into a huge grin and she whipped a pen from somewhere amongst her breasts.

“Right this way, sugar.”

*

Rhys fiddled with the waistband of his shorts. He pinged at the elastic of his braces, wincing when it snapped back against his bare skin.

“What’s wrong now, Rhys?” Athena grumbled, pulling her stocking up her leg. “Have your balls shrivelled up?”

August laughed from his place at the mirror. Nisha grunted and slapped him on the arm hard.

“Will y’all leave the kid alone,” she hissed, walking over to Rhys. “It’s only been a week. He’s shy, bless his soul.” She smoothed his hair back and kissed his cheek. “You’ll do great out there. They already love you.”

Lilith snorted. “They love all the fresh meat, Nish.  He’s nothing special.”

Rhys lowered his eyebrows and glared at her. Nisha grabbed his face and made him look into her eyes.

“Ignore those assholes, Rhys. They’re just jealous because you’re doing such a great job straight off the bat. It took _these_ shitbrains _months_ to do any serious damage to their customers’ pockets.”

“Hey shut up,” August snapped before he smirked. “Look, Rhys, you just have to suck it up and show some confidence. You’re... _good_. I won’t lie. I’m impressed. But god is it hard to be around you backstage when you’re acting like a little bitch. I just wanna slap you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Rhys shot back, turning to check his face in the mirror. At that moment, Moxxi chose to appear through the curtains. She was wearing her favourite purple corset and her makeup was immaculate.

“Okay boys and girls, let’s do this. The floor is all yours, kids.”

*

Jack had been having a _really_ bad day.  First, the dickheads in R &D had cocked up some plans for a new line of shotguns and then, before lunch had even been served, Jack had been told that the financial auditors were arriving on Wednesday.  That was something he _really_ didn’t need.  On top of that, his monthly rounds of the lower levels had proved that yes, whoever was hiring for those positions was doing a fucking shitshow of a job and so _they_ had to be fired and replaced, along with all of the shitstains they’d hired in the first place.  

In short, Jack was in dire need of some stress-relief.  

*

“Who is _that_ ,” Rhys gawped, leaning against the bar. Moxxi leant forward so she could see who he was talking about.

“Oh, that’s Jack," she muttered, rolling her eyes and going back to cleaning a glass. “He’s usually here a lot more often. I’m surprised he hasn’t been in more this week. He’s...an interesting character.”

This didn’t shock Rhys. The guy walked in like he owned the place, slapping Nisha on the ass as he passed her and shooting Moxxi a flirtatious wink. He was _handsome_ , with a chiselled jaw and perfect hair, aside from a singular streak of grey that Rhys found only added to the allure. His eyes found Rhys’s and in an instant Rhys had gone hot under his non-existent collar.

“Play it cool, kid,” Moxxi whispered. “He’s one of our most affluent clients. If he wants you, you let him have it. You let him have it _all_. Understand?”

Rhys simply nodded, not having time to reply as Jack descended upon them.

“Hey Mox, a double vodka lime for this pretty little thing and a red wine for me.”

Well, there it was. Jack didn’t appear to be one for small talk. Jack’s eyes raked Rhys up and down, drinking him in with hunger in his eyes.

“Who are _you_ ,” he asked, running a finger slowly down Rhys’s arm from his shoulder. Rhys shuddered and leant in close.

“Whoever you want me to be,” he purred against Jack’s ear, allowing his tongue to flick out ever so slightly and graze Jack's skin. "Good...bad..." He leant back and soaked up the surprised expression on Jack’s face. He shrugged and smiled. “...I can be whatever you want.”

“Holy shit, kitten.” Jack’s hands found his waist, tugging him close. “How is this the first time I’m meeting you?”

“Obviously your luck’s been running low,” Rhys said, licking his lips in such a way that he made sure Jack noticed. “Now tell me, what can I do for you this evening?”

Jack stepped away for a moment, digging around in his back pocket frantically. He tugged out his wallet and pulled out a huge wad of cash.

_“Everything.”_

*

Pandora’s ‘everything goes’ rule had come as quite a shock. Rhys had never heard of such a rule in strip clubs before but apparently if some old bald guy wanted Rhys to suck his dick, Rhys could oblige. Moxxi wasn’t forcing anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do, but the rule allowed clients to make suggestions that the employees could either agree to or disregard entirely.  
When Jack told Rhys to get down on his knees, Rhys was more than happy to do as he was told. He had been ensnared by Jack’s very presence; he wanted desperately to know more about him and also make him feel _fucking_ fantastic.

“Wow, you’re a goddamn work of art, pumpkin,” Jack murmured, watching intently as Rhys slid to the floor. He made quick work of Jack’s zipper before pushing the man onto the soft couch of the booth. “Now, show me how that pretty little mouth- ah _fuck_.”

Jack hadn’t had time to finish his sentence because the sensation of Rhys’s mouth on his dick cut him off. Rhys made sure to take him all the way in, revelling in the fact that Jack tasted _gorgeous._ Jack’s hand found his hair and this only spurred Rhys on. He used his tongue to massage the underside of his cock which Jack appeared to thoroughly enjoy.

“Ngh-How did you learn to - _shit_ \- do that?”

Rhys sucked all the way to the tip before letting go with a _pop_. Jack hissed.

“I don’t like to kiss and tell.” With that, Rhys immediately resumed his ministrations. Jack bucked off the couch like a jolt of electricity had struck him. He began grinding down with every one of Rhys’s bobs, coming apart at the seams with an abundance of swearing.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Jack moaned, fisting Rhys’s hair tightly. “I wanna fuck you, sweetheart.” The words came out as Jack pulled Rhys’s head off of his dick, staring him deep in the eyes. “What say you, beautiful? Wanna let Jack fill you up? Wanna let Jack fuck that pretty ass of yours?”

Rhys flashed him a grin, standing. He clambered onto Jack’s lap and straddled him, feeling the thickness of Jack’s erection pressing into his own.

“Does _that_ answer your question?” Rhys asked, as innocently as he could. He grinned and sucked a large hickey onto Jack’s collarbone. The man beneath him grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled them apart so far it _almost_ hurt.

“Hell yeah, cupcake. It sure does.”

Sliding off, Rhys tugged down Jack’s pants and pulled them off. He the proceeded to rip open the man’s shirt, causing buttons to fly everywhere. Jack didn’t seem phased. In fact, he growled with arousal and grabbed Rhys by the top of his booty shorts. His thumbs dug into Rhys’s hips and Rhys doubled forwards, gripping Jack’s shoulders to steady himself. He was sensitive there - he hadn’t known that before.

“Get those shorts off now, pretty boy,” Jack whispered into his ear, sucking it into his mouth when he finished talking. As Rhys shuddered and went to slip out of his shorts, Jack fished a condom and lube from his pants pockets and slid the condom on, beckoning for Rhys to hurry up. Rhys smirked, turning as he pulled down the leather around his thighs, ass out and tongue swiping across his lips.

“Do you want me to go faster?” he asked, batting his eyelids. Jack didn’t seem to be wanting the slow approach today, grabbing Rhys by the wrist and pulling him onto his lap again. The older man wrapped his hand around Rhys’s neck gently, fingertips applying a small amount of pressure.

“I’ve had a long hard day, baby and I don’t want to lift a finger.”

Rhys got the idea and applied some of Jack’s lube to his fingers. He slipped a couple into his hole and gasped, laying down on Jack’s chest. Jack stroked his hair.

“Yeah, that’s it, Rhysie. Work yourself open for Jack.”

Rhys loved hearing Jack talk. He could listen to that voice for hours. His words alone were bringing him closer and closer to an orgasm. He did as he was told and worked himself open and quickly slid onto Jack’s cock before the older man could work out what he was doing. Jack gasped loudly, sucking in a breath and moaning aloud. When he looked into Rhys’s eyes, the younger could have sworn Jack was mad at him. However, as Rhys quickened the pace, any trace of anger ebbed away and Jack rolled his head back onto the back of the couch. His hands were clasped around Rhys’s middle, helping him move up and down.  Jack filled him up good and proper; perfectly in fact. All of a sudden, Jack pushed up into him with vigour. Rhys yelped and fell forward, nose bumping Jack’s.

“Hey there kitten,” Jack drawled, biting at Rhys’s bottom lip. He sucked it into his mouth and Rhys moaned, wanting more.  Sucking in a breath, he surged forwards, pressing his mouth against Jack’s own. Jack stilled for a moment and Rhys winced, thinking he’d maybe taken things a step too far.  

“ _God,_ ” Jack hissed, sweeping his tongue into Rhys’s mouth. He bucked his hips again, pushing deep inside Rhys who tensed and groaned. Jack found a steady pace.

 _So much for not wanting to lift a finger,_ Rhys managed to think to himself before throwing his head back and moaning like a freaking pornstar.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” he whimpered, squeezing down on Jack’s shoulders. Jack shook and tensed as he practically came apart inside of Rhys at the same time as Rhys came all over his stomach. Without thinking, Rhys flopped forward and lay against Jack’s chest. He wasn’t even sure where he was anymore.

“Well,” Jack said, his voice tight. Suddenly, Rhys was brought back to reality by Jack shifting beneath him uncomfortably. Oh right.

This was work, not a…

...It was not something that would mean anything.

Rhys sat up, gazing down at the spent man beneath him. Jack flashed him a lazy grin and a wink.

“You’re something else, kiddo.” Rhys blushed and bit his lip. Jack reached up and trailed a finger down the side of Rhys’s face. “You’re exactly what I was looking for. Perhaps this can be our... our little _thing_ that we do. _Whenever_ I need it.”

Rhys’s eyes found the wad of cash left abandoned on the shelf of the booth. He looked back at Jack, a fire in his eyes and a heat pooling in his groin once again.

“Oh yes, that most certainly sounds like something we could arrange.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! :D If you have a prompt or you enjoyed the drabble(s), please leave a comment :D xx


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